Familiarity
by Feigned Decency
Summary: He knew that motion from years back, had been plagued with it in his memory for the years since, wanted nothing more in the world than to see it in every day of their future.


She gasped when she was backed up against the wall, her back straight and her eyes wide. She watched his face as he traced a finger slowly from her clavicle down her chest, to where the button was still done on her shirt. The descent on silken skin was tortuously slow but _impossibly _sexy for both the giver and recipient.

He looked back to her eyes; large, brown, pleading, seducing, vulnerable, sexy. He didn't know how she did it; how she could somehow have conversations with him without saying a word. How her voice was always in his head despite her mouth not forming a sound.

He saw when she relaxed into the moment, when her back arched and tongue sneaked out to pull her bottom lip between her teeth. She was playing now; just that one action and he knew she was his again. He knew that motion from years back, had been plagued with it in his memory for the years since, wanted nothing more in the world than to see it in every day of their future.

He flicked the button open, cream lace sliding into view as the blouse shifted under its new freedom; the delicate detail to the bra blending into the creamy expanse of new found skin. He flicked another button, and another, almost at where her pencil skirt began.

She sighed, a soft sound that spurred him on to trace his finger back up her stomach, between her breasts and to her cheek. He threaded his hand into the hair behind her ear, his thumb caressing under her eye and he leant in closer.

She breathed his name before his lips met hers. She'd waited so long for this moment, to have his hands, his tongue, his attention solely on her and _holy fuck _it was better than any of her fantasies or memories could do justice.

His other hand was on her hip, squeezing as he pulled her into him. She could feel his arousal and it set loose a torrent of butterflies in her stomach; tingles that spread down to her toes, to her fingers and straight between her legs. _Please don't stop._

She smoothed his jacket from his shoulders, hearing it fall to the floor as she slid her hands behind his back and gripped his shirt between her fists. Her nails scraped across his back in the action and she heard the faintest growl rumbling in his throat.

His hand left her hip, gliding upwards until it cupped her breast. Squeezing, kneading, teasing before he could lavish the attention to the hardened bud of her nipple. He rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, catching the gasp as it left her mouth and using the opportunity to slide his tongue against hers.

She thrust against the leg he had placed between hers, her back arching further as her body involuntarily demanded more. He caressed the pebbled skin of her nipple through the lace of her bra, allowing the material to add more friction to his ministrations as he pinched, rolled, twisted. "Will…"

She began an assault on his shirt buttons, but the action was quickly forgotten when his mouth left hers and began to trace across her jaw, the length of her neck, that spot near her clavicle that always made her swoon. He kissed, licked, nipped a path lower until he spread the edges of her shirt out, pulling it from her skirt and attaching his teeth to where his fingers had not long vacated. His name was on her breath again as he pushed the shirt from her shoulders, one hand occupied with her breast as the other dipped to smooth the skirt up her leg.

He arched the leg to his hip as his fingers danced up the nylon-clad flesh until it found the lace stocking-top. She always favoured stockings over the other options and _Christ _if he didn't too. He took a moment to trace the pattern with his fingers before slowly daring further. He kneaded the supple flesh of her thigh with his fingers, hearing a husky moan rumble in her throat. He had a fleeting thought to how he must be stretching and ruining her skirt but it was quickly lost when she found use for her hands again.

She threaded her fingers through his hair, guiding his head from her breast to her mouth. Her fingers dropped to the nape of his neck, twirling into the hair there before one hand slid to the front and began tackling the shirt buttons again. "Help," she smirked, as even with two hands she couldn't fathom the action properly. He pulled away from her lips and they both laughed as they unbuttoned his shirt. She let him finish the rest so she could unzip her skirt, stepping out of the pool of material and swinging it off to the side.

Undoing his belt and trouser buttons was an easier task and she managed it with minimal supervision, helping them drop to the floor as he toed out of his shoes. He bent to remove his socks before taking her hand and guiding her to his bedroom.

She followed more than happily, stopping him at his doorway to slip off her heels. He enveloped her into his arms as she dropped four inches to barefoot, his lips following hers despite the sudden height disparity. "MacKenzie, bed, _now_," he practically growled against her when she ensured her body was tight against his during her step down.

She smirked, leading the way to his bed and adding an extra sway to her hips for good measure. She sat down on the edge, parting her legs slightly, "Well, come on then, Billy."

His jaw set as she took one lace stocking top between her fingers and began rolling it down her leg, extending, curling, alluring, mesmerising. It was always an action that turned him on to inexplicable levels and she knew how to work it. She repeated it with the other leg, watching as his eyes never left her fingers, the protuberance in his boxer-briefs growing harder.

She flicked the hair out of her eyes and leant back onto her elbows, waiting for him to snap back to her and get onto the damn bed and fuck her like she so desperately needed him to.

"MacKenzie…" he breathed, crawling up her body, kissing her laced panties, the creamy expanse of her stomach, the still hardened nipples and finally her mouth again. She flattened out onto the bed as he leant his weight onto one forearm near her head. He kept his lips on hers as his hand travelled back down and beneath the waistband of her panties.

She curled a leg up as he smoothed thick fingers over her folds; any notion he had to tease her further was lost as he found the silken arousal that coated her flesh. He parted her with his fingers, smoothing up to the swollen nub that caused her to arch suddenly and a strangled sob escape her.

Her body squirmed in time as he circled the bundle of nerves; flicking, pinching, locating that certain area that had her grabbing his forearm with a steeled grip. Her lips fell away from his as he pulled her closer and closer to the edge; circling round and round as noises left her throat that he had almost forgotten. The noises turned to words, the words turned to just his name and _yes._

Her nails dug crescent shapes into his skin as the other hand bunched the sheets between her fingers, her muscles twitching, quivering, thrusting in time with his fingers.

He shifted lower, sinking one long, thick finger into her as his thumb continued the actions against her clit; in, out, bending, twisting, another finger, harder, faster.

She cried out; a loud, strangled almost-growl, her body arching off the bed as her muscle clamped around his fingers. He continued pumping into her, watching as she closed her eyes as tightly as she could, her teeth biting into her bottom lip.

_Jesus Christ, _how had he managed so long without seeing her do that again? _Feel _her do that?

She relaxed against the bed and he began kissing her, soothing the teeth-worried lip with his tongue until she found enough faculties to join in. He extracted his finger from within her and suddenly found himself on his back, a smiling MacKenzie straddling his thighs.

She leant down to his lips; licking and kissing a determined path down his chest until she could slide off the bed and stand up on the floor. She scraped her nails down his stomach, the short trail of hair that lead to the waistband of his boxer-briefs, carefully freeing his erection and sliding the material off his legs. He leant up on his elbows as he watched her shimmy out of her own panties and climb back onto the bed, her mouth tilted into a smirk.

She traced her tongue up his thigh to his penis, swirling around the head until he fell back onto the bed. The noise that escaped him told her he wouldn't last long enough to enjoy what she was willing to let her mouth do, so climbed further along his body.

His hands gripped her hips, fingers pressing into the flesh as she lined him up with her opening, sliding her hand down the length just to torture him a little bit more.

"Jesus _fuck_," he groaned, his body tensing and fingers digging into her hips as she sank onto him. Her head fell forward, a sheath of short dark hair hiding her face as she adjusted to him and reminded herself that this was real; it wasn't some exquisitely real fantasy, she wasn't in a tent in some war-torn hell-hole, her mind wasn't torturing her with her past. This was real, this was now and it was his hand at the back of her neck pulling her down for a kiss.

She splayed her hands across his chest as she leant down to his lips. His fingers smoothed across the entire length of her body; down her back, across her ass and along her thighs before moving to unhook her bra. She smiled against his lips as he pulled the straps down her arms.

She sat back up, pulling the garment from her and tossing it behind them somewhere. She gyrated her hips and his hands stilled against her breasts, a string of words escaping both of them as a torrent of pleasure flooded them.

She moved again, a rhythm quickly found as she would bear down as he thrust upward. He could only imagine he was bruising her hips as he held her tighter and tighter, his fingers pressing into her as she rode him, gasps, moans and sighs escaping from her every breath.

She was getting closer, he could see her eyes screwing tighter, feel her muscles quivering as he retraced the contours of her body. His hands settled around her waist and suddenly _she _was on her back with a yelp of surprise, a satisfied smirk forming across his swollen lips.

"_Billy…" _she moaned, hooking her ankles at the small of his back. He entwined their fingers above her head until all she could do was gasp, moan and bear down on his thrusts. "_Fuck."_

_Close_, so close.

She lifted her hips and he hit right _there _and she was gone; her body tensed and shuddered, her fists clamped harder into his leaving crescent shapes in his skin that he would still see the morning after. He continued crushing into her, the white heat of her orgasm spasming through her entire body until he can't stand it anymore and he comes harder than he has in years.

He collapsed against her, covering her petite body with his until he can catch enough breath to move. He was heavy on her but she would happy if he never moved.

He grunted something into her ear and moved off her. Her breath caught in her throat as she awaited his next move; this hadn't exactly been what she had been expecting when she came upstairs. Hoped for, of course, but never in a million years expected.

She knew they had been getting closer, sharing more, enjoying each other's company outside of the newsroom, but she didn't realise he had gotten to _here._

Maybe he hadn't. Maybe he'd changed his mind half way through and just went through with it. Maybe he-

He turned and shifted his body up the bed so he could rest his head on the pillow, hooking a hand around her arm and pulling her to lie across his chest.

Her fingers splayed into the smattering of gold hairs as he placed a kiss into her hair. "Will…?"

"Tomorrow."

She nodded, settling closer against him.


End file.
